A Blood Stained Rose
by Nolaquen
Summary: She learns the hard truth and is forced to leave her so called home all in one night. Where will she go, and how will she tie in with the rest Harry Potter story and eventually the Demise of Voldie? OC... ratings could go up, future romances and so on


Disclaimer- So far this is mostly an original story, but it will eventually be a full fledged Harry Potter fanfic. Therefore I must give credit where credit is due. I do not own any of the people, places, or ideas that JK Rowling has delighted us with. With that said- on to my story.  
  
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It seemed that I was created for the Gods to indulge in the sheer pleasure that it must be to see someone suffer. And yet I lived, and went on with each day, only to start another that would almost surly prove to be just as miserable. And though it seemed naïve, I was anxious to see my life getting better; as if I was sure that it would. I thought that it was inevitable; surly it wouldn't get worse.  
  
And then my letter came; the letter that I hated and loved at the same time. It was a win-win situation. I would be away from the life I hated; start anew, recreate myself. It was my chance at happiness. And yet it was horrifying. What was I supposed to tell my mother? It went against everything she believed in. Anything that even implied that there were forces at work besides that of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, made her so angry that it frightened me; and now this. I just hoped my father would stand up for me.  
  
Ah yes, my father. He was the only good thing in my life full of quandary. He worked all the time, as did my mother, but I still had a connection with him that eluded my understanding. I suppose it was just that he seemed to care about the way I was growing up more than my mother did.  
  
He sat with me in our garage some nights, and talked with me while he had his nightly cigarettes and a few beers. He was certainly not an alcoholic, but he did his drinking. Whenever I would ask him how many beers he had had, he would always say with confidence, "Two. That's all I remember." He would rarely get drunk. The last time he had I remember well. It was unfortunately the night that my tactless mother told him that I had wanted to have my belly button pierced. I thought he might even hit me. I don't hold that night against him though, he was drunk after all.  
  
Again and again I passed up opportunities to tell them about my letter, until I only had two weeks left. It was my original plan to tell my father first, and then have him tell my mother. But the more I thought about it, the less it seemed that that would be the best way to go about breaking it to them. My father would have been pleased to know that I went to him first, and my mother would be just as livid as my father would be pleased.  
  
There was nothing that irked my mother more than to know that I would rather tell my father things over her. She had always told me that a mother and child, especially daughters, usually had a special bond. She said it wasn't natural for me to be so attached to my father, and to not feel that way about her.  
  
As if to prove that dark forces were against me, the same day I had planned to tell my mother and father about the letter was the day that my mother picked to tell me about her plans. Right after I had announced that I needed to tell them something, my mother had cut me off and said she had marvelous news for me. She then went on to explain that she had sent away an application for me to an all-girl's school, in Japan of all places!  
  
Not that it really surprised me that she would want to send me to Japan. I'm surprised that she hadn't left me there when I was born. I'm not Japanese, but I was born there when my mother and father lived there for a year; back when my father had been in the navy. I could read, write, and speak it fluently, because my mother had decided that it would be proper seeing as how I was born there and had a Japanese name.  
  
After that we had moved back to the United States. Several years later, my dad had secured a permanent job as a programmer in England. And so we were a nice family, in a nice home, in a nice neighborhood, in a nice city, in England.  
  
"But Leigh, and Elizabeth, and David all went to normal public schools that are just down the street!" I argued. Leigh was my oldest sister. She's married to James Harkness and doesn't live with us anymore. Elizabeth is also older than me. She went off on some crazy road trip, and won't be back for a while. And then there was David. I still see him every now and then, but mother can't stand to go. He only lives across town. I don't know exactly what came to pass in my home that night, but David left and didn't come back. It was only a year after that that we found out where he was living.  
  
I did eventually find out what he had done. He had been drunk, and had crashed into another car after running a red light. A little girl had almost been killed. I never would understand how my parents could exile him for making such a small mistake as that, even if it was a careless one. I loved my brother, or at least I did. I haven't seen him in so long though; it's hard to tell what I really feel about him anymore.  
  
After my mention of David, my mother had bowed her head and said in a seething voice, "If I have told you once, I have told you twice, NEVER speak of him in this house! He is NOT a member of this family, nor is he my son."  
  
The tears began to well up in my eyes. I stood up, to angry to sit any longer. "He is too! He was your baby, Mother! Your baby! You fed him, held him, sung him to sleep for Christ's sake! You packed his lunch for the first day of school. You cleaned his scraped knees and elbows. I remember when you loved him! I might have only been five, but I remember! You loved him, and he is YOUR son!" I screamed at her. I was out of breath and tired, but I still wasn't finished.  
  
My voice dropped to a whisper now. "But you don't love him anymore, just like you don't love me. If you did you wouldn't be sending me away. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but whatever it is, it's just sick. You don't love your own children! And furthermore, I won't stay here and deal with it. No one deserves to feel unloved by there own mother." She looked up at me, brow furrowed. She looked angry, and was about to say something, but I cut her off.  
  
"I've been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I will be going to school there, not some school in Japan." I pulled out the letter from my pocket and put it on the table in front of her.  
  
She stood up and backed away shaking, "I always knew there was something wrong with you the minute we decided to take you home with us; some great evil. And I was right! Get out of my house you demon child. OUT!" she screamed. I hadn't expected this. I started to speak to my mother, but she had backed up against the wall and was covering her ears with her hands chanting some prayer. Asking her questions would be fruitless. I turned to my father, who, up until now, hadn't been part of the conversation at all. "What did she mean when she said that you decided to take me home? Daddy?"  
  
"When we were in Japan, something happened. I was drunk, and ran a red light. I hit a car and killed all but two of the passengers; you and a twin. I decided that I would adopt the two babies, because I felt that it was my fault that your real family had been killed. The adoption agency that you had been put into messed up though. They separated the two of you. I never found your twin." His eyes were filled with tears.  
  
"You grew up to be one of the family. So many times I had thought to tell you the truth, knowing that the longer I kept it from you, the harder it would be for you when you found out. But after a while, I decided that maybe you should never need to know. So what if you weren't my blood? It didn't matter to me, because I love you. But you are right. Your mother does not. She hardly loves her own children, much less someone that was brought on her by a foolish mistake of her husband."  
  
I couldn't believe what he was saying. It wasn't true. Surely he was only making this up. Then I mentally slapped myself for being such an idiot. Why would he make that up?  
  
"That's mostly the reason she threw David out. She couldn't stand to see the same mistake twice, so she simply ridded herself of him." He finished.  
  
"Oh Daddy!" I ran to him and buried my head in his shoulder; sobbing my heart out. "What am I going to do? I can't stay here, not now. Mother won't have me. I pulled away from him and dried my eyes. "I'm sorry. I've been enough of a plague to you already. I won't burden you with this. I'll just pack my things and go."  
  
Where would I go? I had no idea. But I knew I couldn't stay here. I ran up to my room, grabbed my duffle bag, and began to pack. I only took what I need, nothing that I only wanted. This was not my family, and not my stuff. Five outfits, a toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, and clean underwear made up the contents of my bag.  
  
As a second thought, I decided to take a few more valuable things with me. At first it seemed wrong, this not being my family, but I was going to need some money. I took all the gold jewelry I had collected over the years, and my silver coin collection. I could pawn them off for some additional cash. I doubted that my meager two hundred dollar savings would get me very far, and it certainly wouldn't keep me fed. And then I remembered; David's treasure.  
  
I ran to the attic as fast as I could. I hadn't been up here in years, not sense it wasn't his room anymore. The door was wedged shut, but after a few lusts at it, it swung open. It was just as I remembered, but covered in dust. Nothing had been touched, it was all the same. I switched on the light, and it flickered on, hesitantly from such little use.  
  
His bed had no fame, only three twin size mattresses stacked in a corner. It had deep blue sheets, crimson pillow cases, and a white comforter. Above the head on the bed, screwed to the wall, was a black light. The wall over the left side of his bed was covered in pencil sketches and full color drawings of mystical creatures from fairy tales that he had drawn himself.  
  
Between the bed and the right wall, there was a couch up against the back wall under the window. It was actually the back seat of a van that he had covered in a purple table cloth. The window had no blinds, but instead an American flag covered it. Along the right wall there were crimson book cases lined with books. One of the shelves had his Lava lamp on it, which I switched on. I also turned on his black light, his radio, and several other party lights he had around the room. I didn't feel the full affect of it until I had turned off the main light so all there was, was the pretty colors from all the lights.  
  
I remember that his friends had used to tease him about his room, saying that it was stupid because it had lights, books, and drawings, not football posters. But I thought it was a grand room. I would have asked if I could have it when he left, had I not known better.  
  
I turned my attention to the dresser, occupying the fourth wall of the room along with a small desk. Kneeling before it, I pulled out the bottom drawer completely and set it aside. A tear ran down my cheek as I remembered. Leigh and Elizabeth had never wanted to play with me when I was small, but David had, even though he was quite a bit older than me. Many times we had played Pirates or Cops and Robbers in this room. Sometimes I had even been a fairy princess and him my loyal servant. He was so good to me.  
  
Beneath the drawer, there was a hidden space that only I knew about besides David. He had told me he kept his treasure there, but never to tell anyone, and that it was our little secret.  
  
TBC  
  
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Whatcha think? Should I continue with this story? Or is it just lame? Review PLEEZ! I know I haven't finished my other story Arbaon, but I will, don't worry. I just felt like writing something different for a change. I still don't know what she will find in the 'hidden space', where she will go, who her twin is (heck, I haven't even decided whether they were identical, or if the twin was a boy or a girl), who her real parents were (someone magical no doubt. but who?), who she will fall in love with (later on when she's older) And don't give me that, you know it had to have some romance if I was going to write it. Or how she will tie in with all the other Harry Potter characters. To be truthful, I haven't even decided on her name.  
  
So feel free to give me any suggestions. I'm all ears. PLEESE review!!!. I will beg if necessary. 


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